Текст книги "What Emma Craves"
Автор книги: Amanda Abbott
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WHAT EMMA CRAVES
Pushing the Boundaries:
Book Three
AMANDA ABBOTT
It took a lot for Pete Slater to convince his wife, Emma, to move to the suburbs. But once she arrived, she found it had a deliciously steamy underbelly. Her neighborhood is filled with hook-ups, affairs, and scandal. It’s better than any reality TV show.
But Emma isn’t satisfied anymore. After watching her friends Piper and Michael Collins become adventurous in their marriage again, it’s made Emma realize that’s what she wants in her own life. She craves to be noticed again. In order to try and find what’s missing, she and Pete decide to book a vacation.
Their destination is a super exclusive resort situated on a tiny island where anything and everything can happen. When they meet a young couple at the airport, who end up in the suite next to theirs, things go from fun to incredibly steamy fast. Emma drives Pete crazy flirting, and it pays off. For the first time in their marriage her husband is jealous of another man. What Pete does to win her back turns out to be exactly what Emma craves.
*This book is off the charts hot. It contains: explicit sex, group sex, and voyeurism. **There is no cheating in any of my books, everything is consensual between all participants.
WHAT EMMA CRAVES
Pushing the Boundaries: Book Three
Copyright © 2015 Amanda Abbott
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-9903928-6-6
Email: [email protected]
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For Billy.
1
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Emma ducked down into the bushes as the car drove down the street. She peeked out of her hiding spot and saw it was the Dwyers, an elderly couple who lived three doors down from her and Pete, driving their dated black Cadillac. They were coming home from church, as usual. Emma was crouched in a very unladylike position, but the wait would be well worth it. She was situated directly under the McCrays’ garage window, waiting for the show to begin.
It happened without fail every Wednesday night at ten thirty-seven, when Candace arrived home after her weekly hot yoga class.
When she could, Emma always snagged a front-row seat.
Another car came down the street, like clockwork. A second later the McCray garage door engaged, rolling up smoothly, the vibrations shaking Emma’s shoulder where she leaned against the siding. Emma stood and watched as Candace pulled her leased Audi RS 5 into the spot right next to the window.
Emma knew it was leased, because Candace was an avid talker. Candace was a forty-one-year-old unhappily married stepmother to three older children. She enjoyed her boxed Chardonnay, and over the years she’d filled Emma’s ears with more than Emma had ever needed to know about her, including how stretched she and her husband were financially to maintain the lifestyle they felt they deserved.
The “lifestyle,” according to Candace, was expensive cars, lavish vacations, and diamond jewelry glittering around her neck. The unhappiness that accompanied it was considered a typical side effect and had become an accepted sacrifice.
To Emma, however, living the lifestyle were nights like this, when Candace stole a moment of pleasure all to herself. Candace just didn’t realize that she was actually involved in a different kind of “lifestyle” altogether—the sexual kind.
Most people didn’t.
Instead, they refused to name it, because that would make it real. So they engaged in affairs and sneaked around instead of choosing to be open with their sexual desires.
Emma never begrudged Candace for stealing a tiny slice of happiness where she could. If this was the only place she could get it, so be it. Plus, it was entertaining as hell to watch. Candace was a beautiful woman, tall, curvy, with long blonde hair. She had to be gorgeous, since she was Kyle McCray’s trophy wife. Kyle was a fifty-five-year-old misogynistic asshole who traveled more than he was ever at home.
And when he was around, he was trying to screw everything he could get his meaty hands on. He’d come on to Emma several times over the years, but she’d always fobbed him off like a pro, insulting him so intelligently he never quite knew how brutally he was getting the brush-off.
Emma watched as Candace emerged from her car. The woman carefully set her purse and keys on a small shelf by the door and went to stand in front of the fender of her car. A moment later, there was a small noise as the side door opened and closed.
Justin walked toward Candace like he was in need of a meal and hadn’t eaten for weeks.
It was the same every single Wednesday.
They didn’t embrace or touch each other affectionately.
They never did. Justin had his dick out before he reached Candace, who had leaned over the hood of the Audi, bracing her palms on the hood. Emma always pondered whether the car hood was hot or not, but it didn’t bother Candace in the least.
Justin came up behind her and peeled her yoga pants down with one hand.
Emma could see that Candace was still sweaty. Most of the time she was—she must prefer it that way. Justin pushed his cock into her with little preamble and began a pounding rhythm that sent the Audi rocking in tandem to his thrusts.
Candace tried to keep her moans quiet, but Emma could hear them through the glass. Emma knew Candace loved every minute of this and craved it like nothing else in her life.
Emma knew the feeling.
Every time Emma’s husband, Pete, touched her, she felt a rush like that. She couldn’t get enough.
Justin was a twentysomething friend of Candace’s oldest stepson. He worked as a waiter at a restaurant nearby. Although he was on the skinny side, he was tall and knew how to use his cock. Emma knew where he worked only because she’d spotted him at the restaurant on a few occasions. Candace had mentioned Justin once in passing about a year ago, and Emma had gotten the drift that Candace knew Justin’s mother—and that they might even be bridge partners.
Oh, the scandal of it all!
That’s what Emma adored the most.
There was titillation in watching these acts, no doubt about it, but it was the naughtiness and the secrets that gave her the ultimate enjoyment. The suburbs—a place she’d never, ever thought she’d live—were absolutely teeming with adultery, scandal, and sexual mayhem! It was better than any reality TV she’d ever watched. Probably because it was all live.
But still.
It’d become a weekly ritual to find out what naughty activities were going on in the neighborhood and seek them out. She’d watched as married wives sought each other out, as well as coeds bored on summer break with nothing better to do than to try to seduce wayward husbands.
Emma watched as Justin continued his relentless pounding until Candace’s voice broke on a stifled cry. As she came, her fingers curled into the car hood, her ass bobbing back to press onto Justin’s cock to hold him steady for a few precious moments.
That was the only touching she allowed.
A few seconds later, Justin pulled out and jutted his come all over Candace’s bare ass.
That must be their agreement.
It always played out the same way.
Emma had been watching for a few months now, and Candace would switch it up on occasion—but only as far as bending over something else in the garage, like the worktable.
Once he was done, Justin tucked himself back in his pants and walked over to a shelf that held a stack of towels. He brought one back for Candace, which she took readily, and he immediately headed toward the door. Once there, he glanced over his shoulder and winked at Emma.
Justin knew she watched. Candace she wasn’t sure about.
That was Emma’s cue to skedaddle.
Justin often tried to catch Emma to talk—he’d even tried to convince her to join them in a threesome. She dodged him as quickly as she could. She found it was easier to disappear before he could make his way around the garage, and since she lived next door, that was an easy thing to do.
Emma sprinted back into her yard, heading around the back of her house.
None of her neighbors knew she and Pete were in the lifestyle. And that’s how she wanted to keep it. She’d hung around with Candace enough to know that if Candace knew Emma was watching her and Justin, she wouldn’t care. She would only want Emma to assure her she looked awesome as the twentysomething fucked her from behind.
* * *
Pete glanced up as his wife entered the kitchen from the sliding glass doors off the deck. He was stretched out on the sofa. “Did Candace come big tonight?” he joked.
“Yep,” Emma answered as she slid the doors closed and walked over to the cupboard. She took out a bag of potato chips and a glass, then hit the fridge for water.
Pete smiled. His wife had a penchant for junk food. “Come sit by me.” He patted the couch next to him. “I was just about to go to bed, but I haven’t seen you much today.”
Emma kicked off her shoes and padded over, settling in next to him.
He leaned over and kissed the top of her head. He thought it was cute that she snooped on their crazy neighbors once in a while. He’d gone with her a few times, but it wasn’t his thing. He liked to participate when he watched sex. To him, watching wasn’t exciting if there was no return.
“Don’t forget,” she reminded him, “the girls are coming over here next Thursday for the block party. After, we’re hanging out here. They’re throwing me a ‘travel shower’ to celebrate our trip to the Bahamas. It’s so sweet of them.”
He and Emma were leaving on a much-needed vacation in less than two weeks. Pete was pumped. They hadn’t been on a trip in a long time. They’d booked a villa on a super-exclusive island where open sex was encouraged. He’d heard stories about these kinds of sexy resorts and had always wanted to try one, but they’d never had a chance—or enough money—before now. He was hoping it was going to be a wild ride. “Do you want me to find something else to do while they’re here? Or can I stay upstairs? I have no desire to attend the block party.”
“You never want to go.” She elbowed him, smiling. “I adore seeing everyone out of their fishbowls and love trying to figure out what’s going on behind closed doors. But it doesn’t matter.” She uncurled the bag of chips. “Whatever you want to do is fine.”
He draped his arm around the back of the couch. “How was work today? Have fun teaching little girls how to dance?”
“Little girls and boys. I’m so happy to see more boys enrolled. And it was good,” she said, popping a chip into her mouth. “Same as usual.”
“Are you looking forward to our vacation?”
“I am,” she replied.
Pete sighed. These short, clipped answers were what he’d been dealing with for the past few weeks. They were unlike his wife—who was normally sweet and bubbly, always ready to talk. He couldn’t figure out what was bothering her. He thought maybe it was because he’d pressed the idea of going to a sexy resort when she’d originally wanted to go to a nice, upscale resort where the two of them could “re-couple,” as she’d put it. He had no idea what “re-coupling” meant and had argued for the exclusive resort instead.
If they were going to go on a spendy trip, he wanted to go all-out. Why not? They’d ended up debating it for a few days, but eventually she’d given in.
Just like that. Like a switch had been flipped.
Pete had been puzzled, but satisfied. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He tried again. “We haven’t chatted much this week. What’s going on with you?”
She angled her head up. “Nothing much. Same old stuff. But don’t worry, the vacation is going to be great. I’m really excited. The Bahamas look wonderful.”
“I’ve tried to do a little research on the resort, but it’s really secretive. I can’t find much.” He wrapped an arm around Emma’s shoulder and nuzzled the top of her head. “But from what Jim said, it should be right up our alley. I trust him.”
“Yep, I saw the e-mail he sent, and the pictures. Like I said, it all looks amazing. I’m sold. I’m sure we’ll find lots to do. And people to do it with.”
Pete detected a hint of something in her voice he couldn’t identify. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” He frowned. “I don’t want to go if you’re upset. We can book something else. We can probably get our deposit back, or at least some of it, if we back out now.”
She sighed. Pete heard it clearly. “No, I told you. I want to go. I’m excited to visit the Bahamas. It wasn’t my first choice, but I’m fine with it now. We’re paying so much for it, I can’t imagine it will be anything less than amazing.” She patted his leg and popped another chip into her mouth. “You need to relax. I’m fine.”
Pete hated that Emma was obviously bothered about something, but he decided to let it go. She would talk to him when she was ready.
Emma rolled up the top of the chip bag and stood. “I’m going to head up to bed. I’ll see you when you get up there.”
Pete watched his wife put away the food and walk out of the kitchen. He tried to think back to a time when Emma had ever been this withdrawn, and he couldn’t think of a single one. He loved his wife more than anything. Pete had fallen for her the first moment he’d ever laid eyes on her. But she was a people pleaser. It was in her nature to be soothing and affectionate. That’s why she excelled at teaching children. So her attitude now baffled him.
He rose off the couch and turned off the TV, then locked up the house and made his way upstairs. By the time he got to their bedroom, the lights were out and Emma was already curled up in their bed.
He knew she wasn’t asleep yet.
Pete headed into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, dropping his clothes on the floor. He always slept naked. He crawled under the covers and immediately gathered Emma into his arms, tugging her gently to his chest. Then he licked the column of her neck.
She shuddered in his arms.
His wife loved sex, possibly even more than he did. Plus, she had to be turned on from seeing Candace and Justin fucking in the garage.
Silently, Emma turned in his arms, facing him, her hand sliding down to stroke his cock as her lips met his chest. She didn’t speak as she spread her legs, draping one leg high over his thigh, easing his already hard dick inside of her.
She undulated her hips, moaning softly into his neck as she fucked him.
Pete was struck by the emotion he felt. Just like everything else this week, this wasn’t their typical interaction.
He closed his eyes, reveling in her body, warm and sweet, as it rocked against his. Most of their sexual interactions involved time and planning, even when they were alone. They preferred to make it explosive if they could and almost always used the basement because there was so much stimulation and things to choose from down there.
Spontaneous sex was rare.
Pete felt a need for her like he never had before. It was like Emma was trying to tell him something he couldn’t quite grasp. His chest felt tight. He rose up, rolling her onto her back, taking her mouth, and began to thrust deeply. He pumped hard. After a moment he broke the kiss and flexed his arms so he hovered above her, spreading her legs wider so his cock fit tightly against her core with every thrust.
He wanted every part of himself inside her.
She moaned beneath him, her nails biting into his ass, forcing him to go faster. But she didn’t say a word, her face angled away from his.
Her silence affected him. She was always tender during their lovemaking, whispering sweet words in his ear.
“I love you,” he told her. “You know that, don’t you?”
In answer, she threaded her fingers through his hair and cried out his name as she came.
2
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“That’s fantastic, Miranda! If you keep practicing that, you’ll be ready for the show in no time. I’ll see you next week.” Emma waved to the last child as the little girl left the studio with her mother.
Emma was tired, but she felt invigorated. Teaching always made her feel that way. Dancing was her life, and Emma loved her job. Being able to teach grade-school children had become her passion.
She walked toward a door on the other side of the studio and entered her office, which doubled as the wardrobe room when they had performances, among other things. She sat down on a bench and began to unlace her dance shoes so she could change into her street clothes. She glanced at the clock on the wall. She was on time to meet Piper for a drink. Emma had texted her this weekend and asked her to meet ahead of the block party happy hour, which was in two days. Piper had graciously agreed.
Emma readied herself quickly and slung her purse over her shoulder. As she locked up, she thought about all the things she wanted to talk to Piper about. Emma needed her advice. She’d been happy when Piper had agreed to meet her without the other girls. Emma wanted to talk privately first, before she shared her issues with the group. She absolutely loved being included in Piper’s inner circle. The STD happy hours, which stood for Sexual Therapy for Deviants, were the absolute best. The girls got together regularly and discussed sex, and subsequently laughed until their sides hurt. These meetings were one of the best things to happen to Emma in a long time. They were a blessing, really. She knew Caroline and Gillian would be eager to contribute their own advice, and Emma was looking forward to it.
When you chose to live in the “lifestyle,” it was isolating. The topic never came up in casual conversation with anyone.
For obvious reasons.
If parents of her students ever found out she was a “swinger,” for lack of a better term, she could lose her business in a heartbeat. This lifestyle, to lots of folks, was considered perverted. Many would think that Emma’s “sexual deviation” would somehow trickle down to their children through some kind of unseen osmosis. It was a completely uneducated view of sex, and love as a whole, but there was nothing Emma could do about it except keep quiet around anyone but her friends.
Emma had embraced herself and her choices long ago, and had lived in the lifestyle happily until recently. Being able to talk to Piper, Caroline, and Gillian about her new indecisions was like breathing in new air.
She made the quick drive over to The Brick House, a local bar that served specialty pizza. Piper had suggested it, and Emma had readily agreed. Pizza was one of her faves.
When she pulled in she spotted Piper’s car already parked in the lot and smiled. Emma got out, locking her car as she went with the handy fob, and headed toward the entrance.
Piper was seated at a high table in the bar with two drinks already in front of her. She slid off her stool, giving Emma a quick hug. “Dude, it’s two-for-one for the next fifteen minutes. You have to get your order in.” Piper effortlessly hopped back on her barstool. “Beer and rails. I took the liberty of ordering us a small deep-dish pizza and some cheesy garlic bread. They were both on the happy-hour menu, and the waitress said the pizza was killer.”
“Anything is fine with me. That sounds perfect.” Emma took her seat, looping her purse around the hook on the wall next to her. “I’m so glad you could meet me tonight. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”
“Of course,” Piper answered, her face happy and radiant as usual. “You sounded kind of distressed, so I made it a top priority.”
“You picked that up over texts?” Emma chuckled. “That’s fairly intuitive of you.”
“It wasn’t that hard. You must’ve said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ four different times in as many texts. What’s up?” Piper asked as she picked up her glass.
“Nothing and everything,” Emma said, trying not to sound too miserable. “It’s probably just me going through some PMS thing, but I’m feeling unhappy and uncertain in my sex life. Seeing you so utterly transform your relationship with Michael has been an amazing thing to witness, and subsequently it’s caused me to do a lot of soul searching in my own marriage—in a good way. It’s highlighted the positives, but also the negatives.”
“So we’re here to discuss those negatives?” Piper set her glass down. “You’ve hinted at being unhappy before. And I was right there with you, not so long ago. I understand where you’re at, even without hearing all the details, and I can tell you right now, I’m advocating for you to change things up. If you can, the payoff will be sweeter than you know. This lifestyle is a hard act to balance, and we don’t always want the status quo, and it’s okay to change our minds. Sometimes we’re just searching for a different flavor. Or a cookie instead of a cracker. That’s my favorite analogy to date. A big, fat Double Stuf Oreo instead of a dry wheat cracker.”
“That’s just it.” Emma leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “I don’t know what I want or how to shake things up. That’s why I’m here. I’m kind of in this wallowing stage. I know I’m unhappy, but I don’t exactly know why. Pete and I have been doing the same things for years, and it’s never bothered me before—”
“Can I ask you something?” Piper interrupted. “Do you love Pete?”
“Yes! Of course I do!” Emma felt almost taken aback by the question. “He’s my person, there’s no question about it. He’s my tall, blond surfer boy. I salivate every time I see him. That’s why this is so hard! I love him with all my heart and I want to stay married. I enjoy our life together—yet lately there’s something lacking. But it’s that something I can’t put my finger on. That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it first, before I share it with everyone else. I know the other girls are going to be eager to help, and I’m sure they’ll give me great advice. But when I can’t even articulate what I need, it doesn’t make sense to share it with the group. I’d just sound like a bigger bumbling idiot than I do right now.”
“You’re not an idiot.” Piper picked up her drink and swirled it. “From what you just said, decision number one is an easy one: Stay married to Pete at all costs. That helps the direction you need to head in. If you weren’t happy with Pete, and wanted to explore other avenues, this would be a much different conversation. And I totally get wanting to talk to me alone. You’re a private person, Emma. There’s nothing wrong with that. But in order for you to figure out what you need, you’re going to have to step out of your comfort zone a little bit and do some more soul searching. I predict you’re not going to love everything you find. Do you think you’re ready for that?”
“Yes, I’m very ready.” Emma arched her brow. “But how are you so sure I won’t like what I find?”
Piper rested her elbows on the table. “It’s not so much that you won’t like it, but you might have to go outside what’s normal and comfortable for you to fix it, which can be scary. I know that firsthand. You gave me great insight not too long ago. You saw Michael and me from an outside perspective, and because of that, you were able to break things down, including the shocker that my husband wasn’t really into our previous swap gatherings. Well, I can do the same for you now. It’s much easier to analyze someone else rather than take a good look at yourself, don’t you think?”
Emma nodded. “I totally agree. So what do you see?” Emma was eager to hear.
“Before I start, I have to tell you that I believe you’re totally Pete’s person, too. So don’t be worried about that. Every time we’ve ever been with you guys, the way he looks at you, and brings up your dancing, and touches you, and everything else—I can clearly see he’s totally in love with you. Let’s get that out of the way first.”
“It’s good to know that our love is apparent.” Emma smiled. She already knew Pete loved her.
“The interesting thing about you has always been your willingness to please him and everyone else around you. You go out of your way to make sure everyone is comfortable and fully satisfied when they leave.” Piper winked. “I don’t have to go into detail about how you do that, because you already know, but you’re extremely talented at giving and making sure everyone is always happy.”
Emma blushed as the waitress came up to the table. “Can I get you anything? It’s last call for happy hour.”
“Whatever light beer you have on tap is fine,” Emma told her.
“Got it,” the waitress said. “Do you guys want to order any more food before the happy-hour menu ends?”
“No, we’re good,” Piper answered. The waitress left, and Piper picked up where she left off. “What you have is a natural gift for people pleasing, and that’s likely utterly gorgeous.”
“Oh, please,” Emma said, swishing her hand. “You guys are the beautiful ones. Well, Pete is gorgeous, at least to me, with his blue eyes and dimpled smile. But I’m average.”
“Dude, have you looked in the mirror lately?” Piper gasped. “You can’t seriously think you’re average. That creamy, perfect skin coupled with that hair? You’re a fine-looking woman. But, honestly”—her voice dropped as the waitress passed by—“I’ve never seen you use what you’ve got. Not in all the times we’ve been with you.”
“What do you mean?” Emma said.
“I mean you don’t strut,” Piper said, her voice firm.
“Strut?”
“Yes. Strut. Like, show off, wiggle your ass, flaunt what you’ve got. You’re always very demure and put together. You’re never cocky. You never put on the ‘I know you want to fuck me’ airs. Why is that? You’re totally beautiful. You could if you wanted to.”
Emma was genuinely puzzled. “Um, I have no idea? I guess it’s just not my personality.” She gave a noncommittal shrug.
“It’s not you, or not Pete?” Piper cocked her head.
Emma thought about it as the waitress set down her two beers. She picked one up and took a long swallow, going over it in her mind.
Piper scooted her chair closer, the legs scraping the floor, her face animated. “Tell me this. How old were you when you met Pete?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Was he your first love?”
“Oh, yes,” Emma answered readily. “I’d had other relationships before him, but when I met Pete it was like worlds collided and I saw stars. It was love at first sight for me. I know how corny that sounds, but that’s how I felt.”
Piper nodded. “That makes so much sense. And you were so young. How old are you now, twenty-six?”
“Just turned twenty-seven.”
“Before Pete, did you ever strut?”
Emma thought back on it. “Yes, I guess I did. I definitely strutted to try to catch Pete’s eye. I totally remember that!” She giggled. “I must’ve walked by him a million times tossing my hair and wiggling my ass. The very first time I saw him was in a bar, and there were girls all over him. I had to work hard to get him to notice me.”
“And how else did you get his attention, besides tossing your hair and wiggling your ass?”
“Honestly, I did everything I could think of,” Emma replied. “I had no shame. I basically clawed my way through the other girls to stand next to him. I bought him drinks. I wore the skimpiest clothes I could find. I wasn’t above trying anything.”
“See?” Piper said excitedly. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Why do you think Pete ultimately chose you over the other girls?”
“Because I was persistent?”
“Bullshit.” Piper chortled. “Excuse my French, but I’d bet my house you were more genuine and sweeter than any of his usual hangers-on. He picked you because you’re you! Beautiful and kind.”
Emma looked skeptical. “Maybe, or maybe because he knew I wouldn’t give up until he asked me out, so he finally gave in?”
“Yeah, right. On a related note, why did you stop being that girl? The one who would stop at nothing to get a man to look at her? Most women keep preening, especially for their girlfriends—which is why most of us still dress up once we’re married.”
Emma glanced around, surveying the other women in the room, then glanced down at her simple outfit of jeans and a white T-shirt. “I guess I hadn’t realized I’d stopped.” She met Piper’s gaze. “Damn, you should charge by the hour. This is intense.” She picked up her beer.
“Well, you’re the one who wanted to get to the bottom of it, and dude, I think we’re almost there. Seriously, why did you stop wanting people to notice you?”
Emma shook her head. “I think I stopped because once we were a pair I didn’t want Pete to get jealous if other men noticed me. I am a pleaser at heart. Pete and our relationship became my top priority very quickly, so even without his asking I must’ve toned it down. But on the flip side, it never bothered me, nor was I really aware I was doing it. I just wanted us both to be blissfully happy together.”
“Pete couldn’t really be the jealous type if you guys ultimately decided to share your bed with others.”
“We did decide to share it,” Emma admitted, “but it’s always been in controlled situations with firm rules in place, so there was no real room for jealousy.”
“Controlled by who? By Pete?”
“In the beginning, I think.” She hesitated, setting her drink down. “It’s hard to remember exactly. But what we do now is completely mutual. I wouldn’t stay with someone who tried to control or manipulate me. He loves me, and we are in this as a team.”
“I’m not saying you would. You have a very strong backbone.” Piper smiled. “Maybe ‘controlled’ is the wrong word. I don’t mean to imply that Pete is abusive in any way. Let’s try this a different way. Whose idea was it to invite another person into your bedroom the first time?”
Emma bit her lip. “It was Pete.”
“And you were fine with it?”
“I was hesitant at first, but once we did it, I thought it was great. Everyone had such a good time, and the haze of really good sex lasted for days. I know you know what I’m talking about. We were blissed out for days, horny and satisfied all at the same time. We couldn’t get enough of each other.”
